ღ Part of the Job ღ
by Lolly4Holly
Summary: Wendy's first ever crime scene as the new CSI on the team and she's so worried she's going to screw it up. My 1st WEDGES Set during season Ten, or just after. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1: Screw Up

**Part of the Job**

**Season Ten (One Shot)**

**Author:** Lolly4Holly

**Rated:** K+

**Pairings:** Wedges – David Hodges and Wendy Simms

**Summary:** Wendy's first day as a CSI.

**A/N:** My first pure Wedges fic. This is the first time I've ever written a Wedges story, I thought their little relationship going on during the show was kinda cute, so I tried my hand at some hetro fic for a change. I don't not like hetro (very bad English there J), just I've never written it before! I hope you like it. :D Don't forget to leave a review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or any of its characters.

**Warnings:** Minor spoilers for Season Ten. Gory references to the cases and adult relationships.

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**Chapter One: Screw Up**

As she approached the doorway of her first crime scene, Hodges' words rung constantly through her head, keeping her distracted from the task at hand. Her stomach was in knots, her palms were sweating and the cold midnight air of Las Vegas was giving her chills. How was she supposed to concentrate with all of this going on?

_If you can't imagine yourself out in the field, how do you expect Ecklie to?_

The words ran through her mind again. The more she thought about it, the louder she could hear his voice just repeating the simple phrase over and over again, to a point where it was beginning to drive her mad.

Realising that she was _still_ standing on the front yard of her first crime scene where she was actually getting to investigate it, Wendy soldiered on, taking it a few steps at a time towards the entrance of the house. The officer on scene gave her a soft smile, but it was more of a mocking smile as in '_Keep going Rookie'_ rather than the kind one of someone actually trying to help her out.

Wendy had been called out in the middle of the night to her first crime scene, and she was absolutely terrified before she had even seen her crime scene. Back in San Francisco she worked the day shift, but the night shift life in Vegas seemed to suit her more. She had barely seen the city during the day, but when she did, it didn't look right. Vegas was a night city, and she was now part of the night shift crew.

"Concentrate." She muttered to herself, realising she was beginning to think of things that were completely un-case related. It was her first crime scene, she had to focus.

Pulling her flashlight from her kit, Wendy slowly moved it across the blood drops on the floor, trying to judge their direction from her position, but with a shaky hand and watery eyes, it was hard to tell.

Her hand holding the flashlight was trembling with fear as she took two steps closer towards the small lifeless body of the angelic looking little girl. She couldn't have been older than five or six and someone decided to end her life in the most horrific way.

Wendy stood over the body, unable to look the child directly in the eyes as she saw all the blood pooling around her small head like a halo. _How could somebody do this? _She asked herself. The blood she could handle. All night at the lab she'd be processing blood, but they just had names. The blood didn't affect her because it was just a name or a case number, she didn't see their face or know how they died, she just saw the blood vial with the name printed on the side.

This was all a little bit too much _reality_ for her to handle.

A sudden feeling of nausea started to wash over her. She couldn't throw up now though. If Ecklie found out she threw up on her first real crime scene, he'd never let her leave the lab again.

Wendy took slow deep breaths, sucking back her feelings and emotions towards this poor little girl so she could concentrate on the case. _There had to be something! _She told herself as she looked around for something that could be vital to solving her first real case out in the field, and to keep her mind off the nauseous feeling that was still rumbling through her knotted stomach.

"Wendy?" Greg's voice startled her. She straightened up, clutching the torch in her hand tighter to keep it from trembling. "Did you wonna start in the bedroom?" Greg suggested, seeing her pale complexion, even though the room was almost pitch black; barely illuminated by the flashing red and blue lights from outside along with their faint torch lights pointing towards the floor.

Wendy was relieved to take the bedroom. It was the lesser of two evils in her mind. She lifted her kit into her hands then carefully made her way through the house with the plastic booties around her shoes to not destroy evidence. She wanted to do everything by the book today.

No screw ups.

Wendy lifted her camera from around her neck to photograph the body of the child's mother. The fair haired young woman was beautifully entwined in the silk white sheets that lay on the bed. Her skin was spotless, perfect even. It seemed wrong for such a young woman to be taken well before her time. Even more wrong that her child had suffered at the hands of her killer too.

Wendy took photographs of every angle, along with close ups. She pulled her tweezers from her vest to retrieve a hair from the victim's mouth. The first time she completely missed it, grabbing nothing but air as her hand was so shaky. She held the tweezers tighter this time, lifting the hair to eye level to look at it.

"Damn it!" She cursed as the hair suddenly fell free from the tweezers. _Not good! Not good! _She panicked as she tried to find it on the white sheet.

_Ah ha! _She pulled an evidence bag from her vest this time, carefully picking up the hair and placing it straight in the bag, being sure to seal it tightly. _Stupid hair won't get the better of me. _She declared to herself then looked around for anything else that could possibly come in some use.

But she was so focused that she couldn't tell what was potential evidence and what was just crap.

_Like this picture frame? _She asked herself, kneeling down to pick up the tiny shattered pieces of glass. _Was it broken in the struggle? Or did someone just really not like this dog? _She asked herself, jumping as the floorboards creaked.

"Nick." She smiled up at him.

"Hey." The Texan spoke softly, noticing how jittery she was. "Have yah found anythin'?"

"Well, I-I found a hair in her mouth... I mean the vic's mouth. And this picture frame was on the floor. I think there's a print on this glass." She noticed as the blue and red lights from outside hit it at an angle, revealing the slight ridges of a print.

Nick looked at her expectantly, not wanting to blurt the answer out to see if she could figure it out for herself.

Wendy began to feel a little nervous the more he stared, but as she realised what she had just found, she remembered what the logical thing to do right now would be, "Right! So I should print it." _Duh!_ She rolled her eyes at herself.

"Don't worry Wendy; it's very hard to screw up on your first day." He gave her a reassuring smile before he head back out to help Greg with the other body.

_Asshole! What'd he have to go and jinx me for? _She huffed in annoyance. _As if I wasn't nervous enough!_

Wendy cautiously knelt down with the glass in her hands, pulling the print kit from her kit beside her. She carefully dusted the top of the glass, specifically the side she was sure the print was on then stuck down the print tape, hesitant to pull it off in case she messed it up and it was their only lead.

"Ouch." She winced as the glass shard cut through her latex glove into her finger. She hadn't realised how tightly she was holding it. She struggled to pull the print tape off as her blood trickled down her finger, wincing in agony as it slid a little deeper from her struggle. "Shit!" She shouted in anger as the glass fell from her hands, shattering to pieces as it hit the ground.

Nick and Greg immediately appeared at the door to see what was going on, worrying it might have been the suspect returning to the scene.

Wendy slowly raised to her feet with a regretful look on her face. She dare not look straight at them in case they were completely disappointed in her. All the recommendations they had given her to join them in the field and she screws up her first piece of evidence and contaminates the crime scene with her own blood.

_Damn it, why can't I ever do anything right?_

Wendy leant against the hood of her car back at the crime lab, contemplating on everything she did wrong today. Nick and Greg told her not to blame herself as she did manage to retrieve the print... just! And they could easily exclude her DNA from any they found in the room, but she was still humiliated.

"Hi!" A sudden voice startled her.

Wendy looked up sharply as Hodges slowly approached her. She looked tired and her eyes were almost bright red from her almost crying over her failure, but she refused to let the tears spill. "Hey," She smiled up at him, turning her head slightly to brush the tears beneath her eyes, being cautious not to smudge her makeup. "What are you doing down here?" She inquired.

"I was on my way home." Hodges stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, looking around the almost empty parking lot before he turned back to her. "Wen, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She nodded, giving him a deceitful wide smile to mask her humiliation. "So, what are you doing way over here?" Motioning towards his car down the other end, "Did you forget where you parked?"

Hodges shook his head. "I wanted to see how you were, after your first time out. Ecklie said there was an accident."

_Of course he heard. _She moaned to herself. _He's always sucking up to Ecklie; he's bound to ask every little detail of my failure!_

"I thought you'd have gone home." He sheepishly spoke.

"Nah, it was just a little cut." Pointing to the small bandage that was wrapped around the top of her finger, she sighed in disappointment once again. "My first crime scene and I contaminate it. They're probably working out the easiest way to fire me right now."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," He struggled to lighten the mood. "Greg Sanders peed in the urinal at his first crime scene. I've seen the others files too, I can share you some of their mistakes if it will make you feel better."

Wendy shifted aside on the hood of her car, motioning for him to lean against it beside her. Hodges nervously complied with the action, resting his hands on his thighs. "So," She started, turning her head to face him. "What are some of the others mistakes?"

"Well Catherine Willows worked a crime scene related to her own father, not to mention the fact she used the DNA lab to find out if he was really her father. Oh and Nick Stokes slept with a girl the night before she turned up dead. I still think he killed her, a piece of evidence that Sanders happened to examine exonerated him." Hodges rolled his eyes as he had never liked the young ex-DNA lab rat since the moment he was accused of trying to kill him. _As if! I certainly wouldn't need a lab explosion to kill him anyway._ Hodges grinned evilly to himself then turned his head back towards Wendy, continuing to try and cheer her up. "Gil Grissom let's his emotions take over him on more than one case. You know that lady Heather, he was having this whole thing for her, even after her daughter was found murdered. He's the reason that she's not in jail right now. Oh and he also caused possible contamination on another for the FBI..."

"How do you know all this?" She interrupted with a curious smile on her face.

"It's my job to know."

"Yeah right!" Wendy laughed for the first time all day.

"They may all look like they know what they're doing, but deep down they're only human Wendy. Just like you... and me. We all make mistakes."

"You don't consider yourself human?" She laughed, happy to have the laughter instead of the feelings of doubt inside her. "You know most people in your situation," She cast an eye towards him. "I know we've only been... well I don't wonna say . . . dating." She looked at his shocked reaction. "I mean we are sorta... right? We kissed over a week ago now." She glanced down at her finger, nervously picking at the bandage. "There's a certain thing... comforting thing, that someone in your situation would offer to their..." She looked round at him again, wondering how much more rambling it would take for him to get what she meant. "Would you just hug me already!" She snapped at him a few awkward seconds later.

"Uh..." Hodges looked at her slightly confused then pulled her into his arms. Wendy laughed against his shoulder, resting one of her hands on his back.

"Thanks." She spoke softly into his neck.

"You're welcome."

Wendy closed her eyes against his neck, feeling better already. He may not have been the most affectionate person in the world, but he certainly gave good hugs.

She returned to work with Nick and Greg a few minutes later, taking one short trip to the ladies to check her makeup wasn't smudged from her tears. Nick gave her the list of incoming calls from the victim's house to go through, to see if there was anything strange. Glancing down at the sheet in front of her, she noticed that the household called for pizza six times in the space of two hours.

_Either they were really hungry or they kept screwing up their order._ She thought to herself.

Going over her crime scene photos, Wendy couldn't find a single picture with a pizza box anywhere. She rushed off towards the layout room where Greg was sat piecing together a broken bottle to collect prints and DNA from as the bottle was used to cut the little girls neck open.

"Hey Wendy," He glanced up at her from his work. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, I found this, I don't know if it's weird or not so I thought I'd run it past you." She set down the list in front of him. "See this number?" She pointed to the ones she had highlighted in yellow. Greg nodded, wondering why she would need to run it past him anyway. "It's the pizza delivery service number, the household called the number six times in the space of two hours." Greg nodded again, looking up at Wendy for her explanation. "Well there weren't any pizza boxes around. I checked the trash at the crime scene like Nick said, but there wasn't any in there either."

"Good lead," Greg nodded to her, giving her a smile of approval. "Wendy, you didn't screw up, so don't worry about it. You gotta have more confidence in yourself." Greg assured her then pulled his cell phone from his pocket to call Brass about the lead. "Hey Wendy, do you think you could go down to autopsy and find out the child's cause of death?" He politely requested.

Wendy nodded, reluctantly turning on her heels to head off down to the morgue. She dreaded seeing the child's body again, especially being cut open by Doc Robbins. It just seemed wrong for such a small little girl. She didn't know how the Doc could just cut into a small child like that and feel nothing.

Wendy cautiously walked towards the autopsy table where the Doc was looking at a bruise on the side of the mothers face. She gulped down the hard lump in her throat as she approached the table, quietly clearing her throat so he'd look up at her.

"Wendy," He smiled warmly. "Here to find out your victims' COD?" Wendy could only nod as she was too nervous to talk. Doc Robbins retrieved his notes from the other table, setting his glasses on his nose to read through them. "The daughters COD was due to exsanguination." He walked round to the other table, pulling back the sheet from the little girl's body.

Wendy slowly walked round to join him, feeling that familiar nauseous feeling in her knotted stomach as she approached the dead body.

The Doc slightly turned the girls head to reveal a large cut. "Looks like she was hit with something sharp round the side of the neck..."

"Hit? It wasn't cut?"

"No, it's more of a chopping motion." He pointed out to her.

Wendy nodded as she held her stomach as she struggled to hold down the acidy feeling inside of her.

"I found some bits of glass in the wound. I sent them up to trace . . . a child this size would have bleed out very quickly. The mother," He hobbled back around to her table, retrieving his notes for her. "She died of ligature strangulation; see the bruise pattern around her neck?"

"Yeah." Wendy nodded; remembering the curtain tie she found on the floor looked just like that. She realized she could get the killers epiphyllous off the rope, as long as he wasn't wearing gloves. "Thanks." She smiled, quickly heading off as her acidy stomach started to bubble even more, giving her terrible discomfort.

Wendy rushed off towards the ladies room in case she really was going to throw up, but as soon as she took a few calming deep breaths, she felt so much better and calmer. She never had a problem before, but then again she had never seen such a small child killed in such a brutal manner before.

Wendy quickly splashed her face with some cold water then got back to work, informing Greg of the cause of deaths before she went to test the rope for some DNA. Brass managed to get her a warrant to test everyone's DNA at the pizza place as no one would own up to calling the house.

Wendy was determined to find her killer so she got all the DNA samples back to her lab, going through them one by one to try and match them to the sample she found on the rope. She soon found her match, she wished she hadn't, but she had.

Wendy wandered off towards Nick and Greg's office, lightly tapping on the door with her knuckles before she walked in.

"I found our killer." She announced, gulping down that annoying lump in her throat before she said the next part. "It's the little girl's father." Her voice croaked as she couldn't believe it herself.

Wendy sat in the observation room as Nick and Brass questioned the father of the little girl, who also happened to be the owner of the pizza place. They were waiting for Mandy to confirm the match of his finger prints on the piece of glass that Wendy had found, and thankfully not destroyed. They already managed to match the hair to his, but his lawyer was demanding more as their evidence was contaminated.

Wendy cursed herself again for making such a clumsy mistake. If that man walked because of her screw up she could never forgive herself. Ecklie never wanted her to go in the field and this gave him yet another excuse to keep her in the lab for the rest of her career.

Not that she didn't enjoy it; she was just looking for more adventure in her life.

Wendy jumped as she looked round at the door opening. It wasn't Ecklie coming to yell at her like she thought, it was Hodges; her pseudo knight in shining armour with coffees in his hands. "Hey," She smiled warmly at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Ecklie told me..."

"Why am I not surprised," She interrupted with a groan of disappointment. "What did he tell you then?"

"Ecklie told me you found your suspect, I was going to say." He handed over one of the coffees to her, leaning on the table beside her. "I wanted to come and check you were okay."

She looked at him surprised. "You? You came to check on me?"

"I _can_ be a gentlemen." He smiled round at her.

Wendy struggled not to laugh, giving him a wide smile. "Thanks... you know you're really starting to get this boyfriend thing down." She immediately bit her lip as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"I'm a boyfriend?" He inquired; more of a statement then it was a question.

"There are certain... boy friendly qualities about you, yeah." She nodded. _At least I didn't say I love you, that would be harder to cover up. _She groaned at herself. She didn't want to seem this needy, this early on. They hadn't technically gone on a real date, let alone kissed since the last time in the lab.

Hodges just half smiled, sipping his coffee slowly as they watched the rest of the interrogation. It was like a bad police drama show. They knew the guy was guilty, they had all the evidence to prove it, even the look on his face proved it, but the lawyer was telling his client to remain silent, which only made him look even more guilty.

Clearly the lawyer knew he was guilty too, but why would he let the killer of a six year old girl walk?

"_Money." _Wendy mumbled to herself.

"Huh?" Hodges questioned, not sure he heard her right.

"This guy's gonna get off of killing a six year old because he owns this damn pizza place and he can afford a lawyer to keep him out of jail. That's royally fucked up!" She growled angrily.

Hodges looked at her surprised; he had never once heard Wendy swear in the lab. _One day as a CSI and she's bad mouthing already!_

"How can someone chop their daughter's neck open like that then leave her to bleed out while he goes and rapes and kills her mother in the other room?" Wendy asked no one in particular, she just wanted to get it out there in the open.

"Wendy!" The Texan's voice called from the doorway. "We got him, a witness came forward identifyin' him as our guy and Greg found a bloody t-shirt in the pizza place that belonged to him. It's the daughter's blood." Nick informed her.

Wendy sighed in relief. She thanked Nick for telling her then watched Brass reading the murderer his rights as they dragged him off to a jail cell.

"So, if I'm a boyfriend," Hodges looked round at Wendy. "Did you want to come over mine?"

"I'm not vulnerable enough to sleep with you." She chuckled, climbing off the table. "And I thought you said you were a gentlemen?"

"I am. I meant... to watch television. We can watch television? Would you like to come over mine to watch television with me?" He started to nervously ramble.

Wendy stuffed her hands on her hips, trying to think. "Is that your gentlemanly version of a date freak boy?" She laughed as he turned his nose up at her.

"I don't know, is it a date...? Screw up." He teased her.

"Uh... Loser!"

"CSI wannabe!" He playfully retorted back.

"Geek!" She smiled at him, tapping her fingers against her arm. "Okay, so what are we gonna watch on the television, freak boy?"

"I don't know, Clumsy. I have to feed Kobe first." He pointed out to her, climbing off the table. "I'm sure we'll find... something to watch." He grinned round at her.

"Alright, you're on freak boy, but I'm driving." She insisted, stepping out the door first as she led the way towards the crime lab parking lot. She was more curious to find out what kind of place Hodges lived in then she was to find out what was on the television...

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**Originally uploaded 23rd May 2010 – Edited and Re-uploaded 27th December 2010 with a 1,000 word difference.**

**Let me know if you liked it or not. This is my first attempt at writing WEDGES, I never liked them before, but after that kiss in the lab, I think they're one of my new fav couples!**

**Please Review!**

**~ Holly**


	2. Chapter 2: Revenge is Sweet

**Chapter Two: Revenge is Sweet**

"My favourite room is the den. The blue walls make me think of a calming vast sea that relaxes me and makes me think of... well a sea." Hodges weakly explained to her as he continued to nervously ramble, giving Wendy the grand tour of his apartment. Wendy just stood in silence with a wide smile on her face and her arms folded across her chest as he continued to explain the rooms of his house. She pretty much knew what a living room and what a lobby was, but she loved listening to his over-explained explanations of each room and where the names and household items originated from. It was just so adorable and entertaining to her. "Where next... oh, the kitchen?" He asked, leading her through. "Ah... there's Mr K."

"Mr K . . . I thought you said his name was Kobe?"

"Kobayashi Maru." He informed her, lifting the prowling cat into his arms.

"He's beautiful." Wendy gently ruffled her fingertips through Mr K's soft patched fur. "What breed is he?"

"He's a Norwegian Forest Cat. The breed is very old and occurred as a natural adaptation to the cold climate of the region, but it was not regarded as anything other than a standard house cat until the late 1930's, when a small number of 'Skaukatts' were shown in Germany and received very favourably by the judges. World War two brought an abrupt end to the fledgling Norwegian show cat industry, and the breed was forgotten..."

"Hodges!" She shouted, snapping him out of his over-explaining of useless facts that she didn't need to know. "These fun facts are great and all... but I really need the bathroom." She abruptly announced.

"Oh... okay. Down the hall to the right." He instructed.

Wendy nodded then walked off down the hall, thankful he wouldn't be telling her how a toilet or a sink worked. She turned right at the end of the hall as instructed, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. The bathroom was decorated in a dark teal colour with dark brown wooden floors.

Wendy closed the door behind her, looking around at the little trinkets on the shelves around the room. She expected to see star wars figurines or Klingon masks... but it was very different from what she would ever have expected from David Hodges.

On one shelf there were some small little china cats. The most prized one appeared to be two little ginger kittens with a ball of yarn between them; unlike the others it was carefully polished and spotless of dust, and it didn't lay dormant in the background like the others. It must have been his favourite.

Wendy never knew that Hodges was such a fan of cats; he only talked about his cat Kobe once at work.

Wendy turned around to look at the spotlessly clean shower, carefully folded towels and the sweet strong scents of bath oils. The bathroom was shipshape . . . too good to be true almost. It was all white tile with black trim, lavatory style sink, claw foot tub and a spotlessly clean wash basin.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Wendy started routing through the cupboard above the sink. She didn't find anything out of the ordinary; razors, toothbrush, cotton wool buds, aspirin and so on...

She noticed he was very clean for a man too.

_Moisturiser? _She asked herself, lifting the bottle from the cupboard. _That does explain the soft hands._

"Everything okay?" Hodges shouted down the hall.

"Fine!" She shouted back, running the tap so he thought she was busy and not snooping like she really was. _He should have known better then to let an in training CSI into his bathroom. _She snickered to herself.

_Wait..._

Stopping at the sink, Wendy looked at the three toothbrushes in the holder. Lifting the green one up first, she saw a label stuck the bottom reading, _Morning._ She frowned as she lifted the next one, noticing it was labelled, _Afternoon_ and the last one was labelled, _Night._

"Right." She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. _Well, nobody's perfect!_ She shrugged it off as one of those weird quirks she would eventually learn to accept.

Wendy soon returned to the kitchen, watching Hodges petting his cat while he ate from his bowl on the counter. The cat food smelled like the strong stench of rotten fish, but Mr K appeared to be enjoying it by the soft purr coming from his lips. "Wendy," Smiling up at her, Hodges walked around the counter to lift the coffee pot. "Would you like some? I stole some of Sanders' stash."

"He'll kill yah for that." Wendy chuckled, taking a seat on one of the stools. Hodges poured her a cup then handed it over across the counter. "Wow... he eats fast." Wendy noticed as the cat jumped down from the counter, leaving the empty food bowl behind.

"Did you know one out of four American households own a cat?"

Wendy opened her eyes wider, subtly clearing her throat. "No... I did _not _know that. But thanks a lot. I'm really glad to know that." She forced a smile as she sweetly looked up at him as he wouldn't suspect her sarcasm.

Mr K jumped onto one of the chairs, curling into a ball to go to sleep. "Did you know the average domestic cat sleeps up to fourteen hours a day?" He continued with the annoying facts.

"Again... no I did _not_ know that. But thanks for telling me." Wendy climbed off the stool, looking around the rest of the house. "So... did you wonna see what's on TV?"

"Yeah... don't spill your coffee on the sofa." He cautioned her, following her into the front room. _My mother will kill me if you do!_

"I never do." She assured him.

"I seem to recall a few times you did back at the lab." He pointed out to her.

Wendy responded with a scowl in his direction, taking a seat on the firm, yet comfortable sofa. It looked as though it had never been used, not even sat on by the cat as there was no fur anywhere and the fabric was impeccably clean.

Hodges clicked the TV on, taking a seat just a few inches apart from Wendy. "I can't believe how badly I screwed up today." Wendy started blaming herself once again.

"Don't worry about it Wendy. Oh and hey Wen, badly's an adverb, and generally modifies a verb so to say..."

"Hodges!" She cut him off with annoyance. "I screwed up bad just doesn't sound right."

"True." Hodges went to correct her again, but he decided comforting was the better route. "It could have happened to anyone."

"Nick and Greg wouldn't have made a stupid mistake like that. I could have been the cause for a murderer of a six year old little girl getting off the hook. If that happened... I could have never forgiven myself. Ecklie would probably fire me on the spot, not to mention the entire night shift team's disappointment in me."

"It didn't work out like that though Wendy. You've gotta stop blaming yourself. You've gotta let it go." Hodges turned to face her, looking at her blotchy cheeks that made it look as though she was going to cry.

"I can't."

"If you can't let this go, how are you going to let the future cases go? These cases are going to eat away at you if you keep letting them get to you like this. This is your first case and already..."

"I can't!" She interrupted, catching a tear as it spilled from her eye. "You didn't see that little girl lying on the floor in a pool of her blood. It was horrible." Hodges hesitantly put his arm around her shoulder, holding her close as she softly sobbed. "God I hate being such an emotional wreck," Whimpering softly, she dried her eyes with a tissue from her pocket. "All the cases I've worked and this one finally hits me."

"Everyone has their weakness Wendy," Softly soothing her, he felt her tears drying into the sleeve of his shirt. "Just tell me what I can do for you Wendy."

"Just be here for me . . . okay?"

"Okay." He nodded, holding her tightly.

They remained on the sofa for the next few hours with the television on in front of them, barely audible, just a comforting background noise to fill the silence around them.

"I should head home." Wendy suddenly noticed the time, forgetting her half empty coffee cup was on her lap, causing it to spill all across the beige couch.

The blood immediately drained from her face as she looked up at Hodges. "Oh my god! I am _so _sorry!"

Hodges didn't talk to her, just ran off to the kitchen to grab a cloth.

Wendy guiltily climbed to her feet, looking at the horrible stain on the sofa. She nervously bit her lip as Hodges rushed back in, scrubbing the stained spot with the cloth in hand. Wendy awkwardly stuffed her hands deep into her pockets, scrunching her shoulders together like a small child in trouble as she watched Hodges scrubbing the couch that looked new until she sat on it.

After a few minutes of scrubbing with various products, the stain seemed to disappear, not completely though . . . it was just less noticeable.

Wendy gulped anxiously, thinking she should probably offer to pay to have it dry cleaned or buy a new couch.

Hodges finally climbed to his feet, calling it quits before his couch disintegrated under all the bleaches and things he was using. "You know... I heard vinegar and dish washer detergent with warm water is supposed to..."

"No." Hodges cut her off. "It's okay; I'll just take the covers to the cleaners. I'll be back in a minute." Hodges set the cloth down in the kitchen sink then walked off down the hall to the bathroom.

"Can't do anything right." Wendy muttered under her breath, heading into the kitchen. She looked around at the stained wooden cupboards, picking up one of the dried pieces of fruit in the decorative bowl on the side. It appeared to be a dried fig or something.

Wendy jumped as the chair behind her made a sudden clattering noise, making her jump in fright. She looked round in shock, not realising she dropped the dried fruit from her hands as she watched the cat jump off the chair, stretching out as he woke himself up.

Hodges soon returned, giving Wendy a warm smile. "Hey, so you wonna lift home?" He suggested.

_What did he take a Valium or something? _She thought to herself at his sudden change of personality.

They both suddenly looked round as the cat started choking. Wendy's jaw dropped as she realised he just ate the dried piece of fruit she dropped on the floor, and was now choking on!

_Oh, damn it! _Wendy gulped hard, wishing she had just stayed in bed this morning with her knotted stomach instead of screwing up everything she touched.

* * *

The next day at the lab was no better. Wendy was so fixed with guilt over Hodges' cat that she lost track of what she was doing half the time. Quickly rushing towards Catherine's office halfway through the day, Wendy knocked quickly then hurried straight inside, panting heavily. "Hi, um... can you come to my lab a moment?" She requested.

Catherine looked at her curiously then pulled off her glasses, reluctantly climbing to her feet. She followed Wendy back to her lab, wondering what all the fuss was about as she didn't ask her to process anything today as her case was a missing persons and she didn't have any DNA to be processed. "Wendy, what's going on?" She asked in annoyance.

"Some of my evidence escaped." Wendy declared, walking into her lab uneasily.

"Escaped?" She found that hard to believe as she was a DNA lab tech. _What could have possibly escaped?_ She shivered as she looked around at the lab uneasily. "What are we talking about here Wendy?"

"Nick's last crime scene he collected a spider, which he thought was dead. For some reason it got sent here to me." Wendy rushed to explain before she whispered the last part, "But it's gone."

"What do you mean it's gone?" Catherine looked around the floor anxiously. She had a hard enough time walking into Grissom's lab with all the bugs; she couldn't bear the thought of one being loose in the DNA lab.

"I mean, I put it on a glass slide, ready to look at it down the scope before I took a DNA sample from it, just in case it bit or killed Nick's victim . . . then when I turned around, it was gone. What am I gonna do? Nick's gonna be back any second and Ecklie will kill me if he finds out I lost evidence."

"Relax, just calm down. Just relax. We can find it. We can find it. It has to be here. Just calm down." Catherine panted heavily, trying to calm herself down more than she was Wendy. "It's gotta be here somewhere. Have you checked under your shoes?"

Wendy raised her feet to check the spider wasn't stuck to the bottom of her shoes. She shook her head then watched a pale faced Catherine checking her shoes, fearfully sweeping back her hair to check the spider hadn't crawled on her head.

Catherine shivered in terror. "Um... check all the corners, under the desks, machines. It's gotta be here somewhere. Did you at least identify the breed?"

"No, I didn't have a chance to look." Wendy felt a shiver run up her spine. Goosebumps crept their way up her arms as she looked fearfully around the room. "Oh my god!" She gasped.

"What?" Catherine shrieked in fright, feeling like a little girl about to wet herself in fear.

"There!" Wendy pointed out a shaky index finger.

"Where?" Catherine's voice croaked as she followed the lab techs finger.

"It just crawled under there. I saw it." Wendy backed away, hating Nick for bringing her a live spider.

"Ew." Catherine shivered, feeling a cold chill down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. "Well can you get it?"

"Me? I hate spiders . . . that's why I came to get you."

"I hate them too. I'm not touching that thing! Go find a guy! That's what they're there for." Catherine snapped, pulling open the lab door and rushing out, feeling her skin crawling all over as she head back to her office, checking her hair again to make sure it didn't crawl in when she was least expecting it.

Wendy armed herself with a beaker and a stir rod, slowly approaching the printer where the spider had crawled in. She nervously looked in the paper tray then opened the top to check it hadn't crawled inside, feeling her skin crawling with fear the longer she stood there.

"Ahhhhh!" She shrieked as a hand suddenly slammed down on her shoulder out of nowhere. "Oh my god Hodges! Don't do that!" She shrieked at him.

"Sorry." He smiled at her, watching the blood slowly returning to her pale face. "Are you okay?"

"No, there's a freaking spider in here." She screeched in fright.

"So you're going to stir him to death?" He smirked, looking at the equipment in her hands.

"No, I was gonna push it into the beaker." She huffed angrily at him, not taking her eyes off the printer to make sure it didn't get her.

"Then what?" He asked in a mocking tone, admiring how adorable she looked when she was frightened.

"I don't know . . . I didn't think about that part. But I can't let it go. It's my evidence." She informed him, feeling her lower lip trembling as she looked the little beast in the eyes.

"Oh," Hodges nodded, prying the beaker from her nervously tensed hand. "Do you have anything slightly larger than a stir rod?" He asked, taking over for her to be the night in shining armour that she always wanted in a man.

"Um... I've got a mortar and pestle." She indicated to the desk behind her.

Hodges grabbed the pestle from the bowl to arm himself, heading over to the printer to collect the spider. Wendy watched in amazement as he pushed the spider into the beaker without hurting it, placing his hand over the top.

"Do you have a lid or something?" He asked, turning to face her.

"Here." Wendy grabbed a beaker lid, fitting it on the top before the spider reached Hodges' hand as it made one last desperate attempt to escape. Sighing with relief once it was trapped, she looked up at her hero, giving him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"No problem." He set the beaker down on her desk, returning the pestle to its original spot.

"So um... how's Kobey today?" She awkwardly asked, wishing she had never gone over his place as she ruined his sofa and almost killed his cat.

"Kobe you mean?" He corrected her. Wendy cursed herself for saying his cats name wrong. "He's okay, he hasn't been sick anymore. The vet managed to get the fruit out..."

"I'm really, really, really sorry about that." She apologised for the hundredth time. "I shouldn't have left..."

"No, it's okay. He's always eating and drinking things he shouldn't. Don't worry about it. He's fine." He smiled at her, reassuring her that they were okay.

"And... I'm really sorry about the sofa."

"It's okay; I learnt a trick growing up with my mother. If you accidentally spill something on one side you just flip the cushion over so it can't be seen." Hodges chuckled softly, stuffing his hands into his lab coat pockets as he looked her in the eye.

"Okay, well next time I come over... I'll be sure not to destroy your furniture . . . or choke your cat." She smiled softly, looking over her shoulder at the spider to make sure that it was still secure in it's container. "Thanks for the save too." Wendy pecked him on the cheek, giving him a smile as she walked round the other side of her desk.

"You're welcome." Hodges blushed, heading off out the lab, across the hall into his to get back to work again. Wendy watched him go with a smile on her face then saw Nick walking by with a file in his hands. Her smile quickly turned into an angry scowl as she wanted to get him back for sending her a live spider. She angrily grabbed the beaker with the spider in it, following Nick towards his office.

"Wendy," The Texan smiled as she approached him. "How can I help you?"

"You think it's funny giving me a live spider? You're a sick and twisted jerk!" She set the beaker down in his hands, storming off back to her lab.

Nick looked inside the beaker, shivering as he saw the little legs of the spider twitching around.

"Ooh, what's that?" Greg asked from behind him, making Nick jump and drop the beaker, shattering it to pieces on the floor.

"Ew," Nick jumped back, watching to see where the spider skittered away to. "Where'd it go?"

"What was it?" Greg asked then noticed the tiny penny sized spider skittering across the floor. He grinned wickedly as he saw the pale expression on the older man's face then gently walked his fingertips up Nick's spine, laughing mischievously as the older man shivered, giving out a little girl cry of fear.

"You little shit." Nick angrily snapped, shoving the giggling young man away from him as he felt his skin crawling. "That is not funny at all!" Greg just threw his head back in laughter again, making his way off down the hall to leave his supervisor to fret about the tiny spider.

Wendy watched from her lab, bursting into giggles as she saw the pale expressions on the older man's face. "Revenge is sweet!" She declared to herself, grinning widely as she turned back to her desk to get on with the rest of her work.

* * *

**Originally uploaded 23rd May 2010 – Edited and Re-uploaded 27th December 2010 with a 400 word difference.**

**Please review if you liked it!**

**I know Nick Stokes probably wouldn't be scared of spiders since he has a huge one in his office, but I like to keep my characters more real. Nick was terrified of bugs crawling on him after the coffin incident, so it's not completely out of character. It's just more realistic :D**

**~ Holly**


	3. Chapter 3: Guilty

**Chapter Three: Guilty**

"Wendy," Catherine suddenly said, startling her out of her thoughts. "That was O'Riley." Catherine explained, snapping her cell phone shut in her hand as she ended the call to the detective. "We've got a hit and run with your name on it."

"Me?" She gasped in shock, looking round the room at everyone's faces. "Don't I get a partner?" She started to panic.

"No... you can handle it." Catherine smiled at her.

Wendy looked at Ray, Nick, Greg and Sara, seeing they had the exact same reassuring smile on their faces. She looked towards Hodges who gave her the thumbs up as if to say she could do it.

Wendy inhaled a deep breath for courage then nodded. "Um... okay."

"Here we go," Catherine wrote down the address then handed it over. "He'll meet you there."

Wendy took the slip off towards the locker room to grab her kit from her locker. She quickly checked to see if everything was there then she was on her way off out the door, heading straight for her car. She didn't feel nervous anymore, with the confidence Catherine and the rest of the team had in her she felt ready.

"O'Riley." Wendy smiled towards him as she arrived on the crime scene. She had never worked with O'Riley directly or heard the team talk about his behaviour towards cases much, but he looked at her as though she didn't belong. She could tell instantly that she wasn't going to get along with him.

O'Riley lifted the police tape for her to duck underneath, looking at the kit in her hands and the rookie expression on her face. "Don't worry . . . there's no DB." He assured her then turned around to talk to one of his officers.

"Oh... that's a relief." She sighed softly then watched as two EMT's lifted a small little girl onto a gurney, carrying her off towards the ambulance. "So much for the relief." She corrected herself, getting an odd look from O'Riley. "I wasn't talking to myself."

"Uh huh," He stared at her blankly a moment before he looked around her to see if there were anymore CSI's coming. "You working this scene alone?"

"Yeah." Wendy nodded, gulping back her fears. "Right... so, what have we got?" She asked, trying to get into the more professional CSI mode, rather than the scared and whimpy one she had been using so far.

O'Riley gave her another blank stare before he pulled his notebook from his pocket. "The little girl was a victim of a hit and run," Wendy looked towards the crowd the other side of the tape, looking at a pale expression on one of the women's faces. She looked distressed, upset even. Much more upset than any of the other passersby as though she knew the child or felt remorse for her. "Am I boring you with this information?" O'Riley snapped her out of her thoughts.

"No, no please continue." She insisted, paying more attention this time.

"The little girl is nine year old, Marlene Spencer. She was riding her bike home, car ran her down, but the driver didn't stick around."

"Who called it in?" Wendy asked, surveying the area with her eyes for any potential evidence. She could see lots of foot prints in the mud that the police were just walking over without a care for evidence. She could also see something shiny in the leaves by the road.

"Anonymous phone call." O'Riley answered.

"Did you send the..."

"I know the job!" O'Riley snapped at her before she could finish.

"Sor-ry." Wendy sarcastically apologised, pulling her flashlight from her vest to take a closer look around at the scene. "Can you clear the scene? Of your cops I mean . . . they're destroying potential evidence." She pointed out to him. O'Riley frowned at her, bringing his angry eyebrows together. He hated being put with rookies and he especially hated CSI's. "Please?" She nervously requested.

"Boys," O'Riley looked round at his officers. "Make room for CSI Simms." He mocked. "She needs to process the scene."

Wendy gulped nervously as she watched them all stepping out of the way, each of them giving her funny looks as they stepped past her.

Once they were gone Wendy could get to work. She pulled her tweezers from her vest pocket, heading over to the shiny object in the leaves. Lifting it from the dirt she noticed it was a female's rusty decorative earring. It looked like it had been there a while, but she decided to bag it anyway, just in case.

Wendy pulled her camera from her kit, starting to photograph the blood, tire tracks then she started labelling and photographing the numerous amounts of footprints around her. It was going to be tough to tell which ones were the police officers, EMT's and anyone else that was on the scene, so she collected multiples of each as she didn't want anything to go wrong on this case.

Wendy suddenly looked up as she saw a child's school bag on the ground. She took a photo of its position, noticing there was blood on the surface. "Hey, Detective O'Riley!" Wendy shouted over to him. Looking at the angry expression on his face, she nervously gulped hard before she asked her question, "Where was this school bag found?" She indicated towards it.

O'Riley raised his eyebrows as he looked round at her. "What?" He snapped.

"The school bag." She pointed. "Was it here, or did the EMT's move it?" She rephrased her question.

"It was under her head." He answered.

"Under her head?" Wendy asked, biting her lip as she wondered how the child's school bag could get under her head after a crash. "Who put it there?" She inquired.

"Do I look psychic to you rookie?" He remarked at her.

Wendy rolled her eyes, taking a photo of the bag again, writing in her report where it was found. She thought it odd that the bag would be placed under the child's head if it was a hit and run. Usually that wouldn't happen.

Once she was done processing the scene, Wendy head over to the hospital to photograph the little girl's injuries. The nurse turned her small bruised little body while Wendy took photos of the injuries. "Is she going to make it?" Wendy asked the nurse in a soft tone of voice.

"We don't know . . . she's in a coma." The nurse snapped off her gloves then head off out of the hospital room.

Wendy gently brushed one of the little girl's blonde curls from her face before she made her way out of the hospital room herself. She hated working children's cases. They were so young and innocent; they didn't deserve to know the evils of the world at such a young age.

Wendy made her way off down the hall, heading back to her car outside. "Excuse me." A woman with tears drenched down her face stopped Wendy in her tracks. "Are you a cop?"

"Er... yes . . . yes ma'am. I'm a CSI." Wendy nodded, giving her a slight smile.

"I'm Marlene Spencer's mother, Janice." She introduced herself, pulling a tissue from her pocket to dry her eyes. "What do you have so far?" She asked curiously, drying her eyes.

"Oh... I'm sorry ma'am. I can't tell you anything about the case, but I assure you . . . I will find out who did this to your daughter." Wendy promised her before she stepped by her with her kit in her hands, trying not to reveal too much information about the case as she knew from Hodges that Nick was scolded for doing that once when he was a younger, dumber CSI like her. She wished Hodges had rephrased the statement as he had practically called her dumb, but that was exactly how he put it to her without a second thought.

* * *

"So Wendy," Hodges walked into the layout room, giving her a smile. "What have you got so far?"

"Thirty two separate footprints," Groaning in frustration, she let out a long exasperated breath. "There's no paint transfer on her bike, just the frames all bent up. This earring is irrelevant, it's completely rusted, probably been out there for months and . . . the only witness is in a coma."

Hodges moved to the opposite side of the layout table, looking at the evidence all across the table. "You sound like your giving up Wen."

"No." She shook her head, leaning on her elbow as she looked up at him. "It just looks that way when I'm thinking." She smirked.

"Have you excluded the officer's and EMT's footprints?" He asked her.

"Not yet." She sighed softly. "Greg's helping me out on that part though. O'Riley is being . . . uncooperative." Wendy reached for one of the shoeprint photos, looking at the overlapping pattern. "You know, I have a pair of shoes just like this . . . same size too."

"Then confess and we can close this case." Hodges joked, getting a slight smile from her lips. "What's the deal?"

"It's the only feminine pair of shoes that I found on the whole scene."

"So?"

"So David Hodges, you know nothing about the maternal instinct do you?" She smirked at him just as Catherine and Nick just walked in.

"Maternal instinct?" Folding his arms across his chest, he waited for her to explain her theory. Nick and Catherine kept silent to listen to Wendy's theory too.

"Yes, the little girl's bag was placed under her head. Meaning the driver got out the car to check she was okay. Whoever did this placed the bag under her head." Wendy explained. "If you get hit by a car, your bag doesn't miraculously end up under your head."

"How is that a maternal instinct?" Hodges asked her confused.

"Well Hodges," Catherine stepped forwards to answer the question for him as she was an actual mother. "The maternal instinct is the strongest instinct in a woman. Tell me Hodges, if you hit a kid, would you stop to check they were okay?"

"Me personally . . . no," He gulped as he looked up at Nick's expression. "I'd call an ambulance."

"Exactly, this crime was most likely committed by a woman . . . and she did call for an ambulance." Wendy reached for the tape recorder on her table, clicking play.

"_I-I need an ambulance... a little girls been hurt. Please hurry, I have to get back... she's hurt really bad... I have to get back to her. I have to get back." _The female's distressed voice played from the tape.

Wendy clicked stop then looked up at Hodges. "See."

"You get a voice recognition off that tape yet Wendy?" Catherine asked her.

"Not yet, Archie traced the call to a pay phone half a mile up the road from the accident." Wendy explained to her. "I think I know who it is though."

"You do?" Nick and Catherine chimed in together.

"Well... it's just a theory. At the crime scene there was this woman. She looked more distressed than everyone else. So I did what you guys said to do on arsonist cases and things... take pictures of the crowds." Wendy opened up her file, pulling out the photo to show them both the distressed looking woman. "This woman here," She pointed her out to the others. "See . . . she looks really distressed, almost with guilt. Anyway, I saw her at the hospital too. She was in the parking lot crying by her car. She didn't talk to the girl's mother and she couldn't bear to look at the little girl as they took her into the ambulance. So I'm thinking... remorse."

Wendy looked at Nick and Catherine, expecting them to say something, but they just looked over her evidence with their judgemental eyes.

"This is the best evidence you've got?" Catherine asked her shocked.

"Well... I've only been working this case," Glancing up at the clock nervously, she slowly turned back to the others. "Less than four hours."

"Well Wendy, do you know who this woman is?" Catherine asked as she held the picture in her hands.

"Not yet, I've got Archie looking for her file or drivers licence..."

"You said you were stuck." Hodges groaned at her.

"I am stuck. I'm stuck waiting for my results to come in." Wendy looked around at the three of them with a slight smile on her face. "I can do it."

"So you don't have any direct evidence linking this woman to your crime scene?" Catherine asked her curiously, sounding even more disappointed in her by the second.

"If this shoeprint matches any of her shoes . . . then yes, that'll be my first piece." Wendy showed them.

"Sounds good to me," Nick smiled at her, pulling out his cell phone as it started ringing. "Greg? Yeah..." Nick walked out into the hall, leaving the rest of them alone while he talked to the younger CSI about some evidence.

"Alright Wendy, I hope you're right." Catherine handed her back the photos then turned to walk off out the room.

"Hey Wendy," Nick poked his head back through the door. "Greg's bringin' the shoes in from the EMT's and the officers on scene."

"Thanks Nick." Wendy smiled as he left then turned back to Hodges. "Do you believe my theory?"

"Aside from the maternal instinct part," He nodded, watching her shocked expression. "Yeah."

"You don't believe in the natural instincts of a mother or a woman? She jumped out the car to check if the little girl was okay, put the bag under her head then drove half a mile back up the road to call for an ambulance. You heard the tape... she said she had to get back."

"But she didn't." Hodges corrected.

"Maybe she got scared." Wendy collected up everything on the table in front of her. "With the police and everyone there, maybe she got scared, but she still went to the hospital to check if the little girl was alive." Wendy smiled at him. "You'd understand if you were a woman Hodges . . . or a parent."

"Luckily I'm neither." He followed her down the hall, opening the doors for her like a perfect gentleman; leading her off towards the lab where Greg was unpacking the shoes he had collected from everyone on the scene.

"Would you want to be one day, in the future?" Wendy bit her tongue as she looked at his shocked expression. _Oh great! Now he's going to think I'm one of those women who wants to get married and have a baby with him as soon as possible. _She feared. "I mean, not that I-I... I don't want kids, I'm not..." She took a deep breath before she proceeded. "It was just a question. Look, I'll ask Greg too. Hey Greg, would you want to be a father one day?"

"Who says I'm not already?" He replied, giving her a sweet smile. "I'm kidding."

"Phew! I feared for their lives." Hodges joked, getting an evil scowl from both Greg and Wendy. "What, I did. Who'd leave a child in the hands of Greg Sanders?" Hodges turned around and walked away, snickering to himself as he left Wendy in the lab with Greg.

"Do you have the footprints?" Greg asked her.

Wendy opened the file in her hands, pulling out the stack of footprints. "I made the photocopies like you said." Wendy pulled out the stack of laminated photocopies to compare against the shoes. They managed to exclude thirty one of the shoe prints, minus the female's pair of shoes, leading right back to Wendy's theory. But it still wasn't enough evidence to arrest the woman on the hit and run charge.

Wendy needed more.

* * *

Wendy knocked on the door again, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door. She looked round at the officers behind her then finally saw the curtain twitching in the next room. She looked at the scared woman's eyes, watching her slowly making her way towards the front door to open it.

The woman slowly pulled the door open, looking at Wendy then the officers. "Yes?" Her voice croaked as she pulled her cardigan tighter around her as if she was insecure.

"Hi, Mrs Lawrence?" Wendy asked her. The woman nodded, looking at them all suspiciously. "I'm CSI Wendy Simms; can I come in and talk to you for a moment?" Wendy tried not to smile as she finally got to say her new title to someone other than her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"No... I really..."

"We have a warrant ma'am." The police officer behind Wendy interrupted her, showing her the document.

The woman reluctantly stepped aside as the officers pushed their way in. Wendy waited with Mrs Lawrence while they checked out the place. "It's clear." One of the officers informed Wendy, staying by the door to keep watch.

"What are you looking for? I don't understand. Why are you here?" Mrs Lawrence nervously asked Wendy, anxiously looking at the officers either side of her.

"Mrs Lawrence . . . can I see your shoe collection?" Wendy requested in a soft voice, beginning to feel a little sorry for the woman as she looked so scared. "It's right here in the warrant. We're allowed to search through your shoes . . . and your car."

"This way." Mrs Lawrence gulped hard, leading Wendy towards the shoe closet. As the doors opened, Wendy immediately saw the pair she was looking for, selecting them first to look at the soles and check the print of it. "What is this about?" Mrs Lawrence asked, shaking even more now that Wendy was holding the pair of shoes she was wearing when she committed the crime.

"A hit and run." Wendy checked the shoes against the pictures. A perfect match. "Mrs Lawrence, where were you last night from nine through to ten?"

Mrs Lawrence shrugged as her fingers trembled. "I don't know . . . driving?"

"Driving where? Can you be specific?" One of the officers asked, stepping on Wendy's toes.

"No . . . I had some errands to run. What is this about?" She snapped, her face getting even paler by the second.

"Mrs Lawrence, we're going to need you to come down the station with us." Wendy signalled over to the officer by the door as she bagged the shoes. "Where's your car?"

"Round the side of the house... why do I have to go to the station? Where are you taking my shoes?" Mrs Lawrence screamed at her.

"Right this way ma'am." The officer led Mrs Lawrence outside towards their police car while Wendy stepped out of the house to inspect the car. She didn't know what she was looking for as she didn't have any evidence left at the scene to link it, but she was trying to be thorough.

* * *

Wendy stood outside the interrogation room, hesitant to go in. She looked at the sad face on Mrs Lawrence, feeling even more sorry for her even though she knew that she committed a crime and she was clearly guilty. She knew she was supposed to arrest people whether they were the guilty kind or not, but Mrs Lawrence just didn't seem evil enough to put behind bars.

"Wendy." Greg spoke softly as he stepped up beside her. "You can go in yah know."

"I know." She sighed heavily, anxiously brushing her fingers through her hair. "I just . . . she's not the guilty sort. She pulled over to check she was okay, called for an ambulance . . . then checked on her at the hospital. The only thing she did wrong... was not owning up to the crime."

"True. She could have spared herself the jail sentence if only she had told the police that she was the driver." Greg explained to her. "She's guilty of the crime; she has to do the time."

"Given the circumstances though Greg . . . I would have done the same thing. She doesn't carry a cell phone so she had to leave the little girl to call for an ambulance then when she got back, she panicked. Tell me the truth Greg . . . what would you have done?"

Greg bit his lip, looking in at Mrs Lawrence then turned to face Wendy again. "I always carry a cell phone." He pointed out to her.

"If you didn't though. C'mon Greg, hypothetically speaking here." She desperately pleaded, looking for answers.

"I would have told the police I was the driver. It's called a hit and run for a reason Wendy. She hit . . . then she ran."

"She was stood outside the crime tape. She probably got scared." Wendy found herself defending this woman she barely knew. "She has three kids of her own, she accidentally hit this little girl then she tried to do the right thing . . . now she might be going to jail for hit and run."

"Unless the little girl doesn't wake up then she'll go to jail for murder." Greg reminded her. "You can't think about it though Wendy. It'll eat you up inside. She's guilty, that's all you need to know." Giving her a soft smile, Greg slowly turned then head off down the hall to talk to Catherine.

Wendy shoved her hands deep into her pockets as she turned back to look at Mrs Lawrence. Wendy thought by taking this job she was going to be stopping bad guys; murderers, rapists, abusers and so on...

Not mothers like Mrs Lawrence.

* * *

**Originally uploaded 23rd May 2010 – Edited and Re-uploaded 27th December 2010 with 300 word difference.**

**Please review if you liked it! This chapter was inspired by one of my favourite movies 'Hit and Run' 1999 version.**


	4. Epilogue: Part of the Job

Sorry for the really, really long wait. I completely forgot about this story. Heres the final chapter to wrap things up

* * *

**Epilogue: Part of the Job**

Taking a seat opposite Mrs Lawrence, Wendy opened the folder in her hands. O'Riley gave the rookie another look then leant on the table, staring down Mrs Lawrence like any other suspect that sat in her place. Whereas Wendy still felt remorse for this poor woman, after all it wasn't her fault.

"Mrs Lawrence . . . please state your name for the record?" O'Riley instructed, starting the recording tape for the interview.

Mrs Lawrence dried her eyes on her cardigan sleeve as she looked up at Wendy stood over her. She sniffed in a deep breath then cleared her throat. "Anne Lawrence."

"And you've waved your right to..."

"I don't need an attorney." Mrs Lawrence interrupted him.

O'Riley looked at Wendy, handing the line of questioning over to her. Clearing her throat, Wendy took a calming deep breath to settle her nerves. "Mrs Lawrence, can you please tell us what happened that night with Marlene Spencer?" She started in a shaky voice.

"Where do you want me to start?" Mrs Lawrence asked, taking a sip of the glass of water in front of her before she started answering all of their questions.

"From the beginning."

"I was driving home." Wiping away her tears, she leant on her elbows in front of Wendy. "She came out of nowhere. By the time I saw her . . . it was already too late. I got out the car to see if she was okay . . . but she wasn't moving . . . I tried to call for help, but I don't carry a cell phone." Gasping for a shaky breath, Mrs Lawrence proceeded. "My husband thinks they cause brain cells to blow." She smiled slightly. "He won't let the kids have one either."

"What did you do next?" Wendy queried.

"I propped . . . I-I propped her head up . . . with her back pack . . . her bag was on the floor beside her . . . I told her I was going to be right back, to look for a phone. So I drove back to the gas station I just passed . . . calling for an am-ambulance." She stammered, looking up into Wendy's eyes. "I told them what happened then by the time I got back to her . . . there was already an ambulance and police crews there. I tried to tell somebody there . . . they told me to step back. Then I saw she was okay at the hospital . . . so . . . so I thought it was okay." Sobbing harder, she clutched her head in her hands. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I was just trying to do the right thing. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't do anything wrong!" She repeated much louder. "I was... it was an accident . . . why can't you people see that?"

* * *

"Hey Wendy, shouldn't you be off celebrating?" Hodges asked, walking into the locker room where she was sat down on the bench, staring down at her hands.

"I don't feel in a very celebratory mood." She sighed heavily.

"You don't?" He took a seat beside her, cautiously scooting a little closer. "Why not? You got your suspect and the little girls okay . . . right?"

"Yeah . . . but my suspect . . . isn't the guilty suspect kind of person." Letting out a heavy exasperated sigh, Wendy looked round at him with a look of sorrow on her face. "She's had her driver's licence taken away . . . lost her husband, she's not allowed to see her three children anymore . . . she's lost the respect of her friends and her family . . . over one little mistake. Just like me."

"What?" He asked shocked.

"I'm always making mistakes." She pointed out to him.

"Hopefully one of them isn't a hit and run." Hodges prayed.

"No," She shook her head, wishing he wouldn't joke right now as that wasn't the kind of cheering up she needed from him right now. "Nothing like that. I keep expecting myself to screw up . . . I don't think I'm cut out for the field. I can't do this job if I let one case like this get to me like this."

"I see different." Hodges spoke softly, looking into her tearful eyes. "You're not a screw up Wendy. You did the right thing. This woman had plenty of opportunities to own up and do the right thing, but she chose to stay quiet."

"Wendy!" Catherine's voice called from the doorway of the locker room door. Holding a file in her hands, the supervisor gave her newest employee a wide smile of approval. "Good work." She winked, continuing on her way towards her office.

"See... you hear that?" Hodges smiled round at her. "You're a great CSI Wendy. You solved your case. You gave that little girl justice."

"I gave her justice by taking away the mother of three innocent children."

Hodges couldn't think of anything to add to that so he cupped her face in his hands, kissing her passionately. Wendy was completely surprised by the sudden gesture, but she found herself responding to the kiss.

"This wasn't your fault Wendy, that mother of those three children should have known better. The world isn't always black and white. Sometimes good people do bad things . . . and they have to be punished just like anybody else." Hodges explained to her then climbed to his feet, heading off out the locker room.

Wendy relicked her lips as she watched him walking away, feeling slightly better about herself, finally. She knew she had done her job. Her job was to protect the victim, Marlene Spencer. She had no business worrying about the suspect; it was all just part of the job.

**The End**

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**Sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. I meant to finish it a while ago but I got too wrapped up in my other stories.**

**Please Review and let me know what you thought. Thanks so much for reading!**

**~ Holly**


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